Monet Talks by Tamar Myers

Author:Tamar Myers
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins

The intersection of Ashley Phosphate and I-26 is an accident waiting to happen. Even on good days traffic backs up, due to the proximity of Northwoods Mall. On bad days it’s possible to observe the growth in one’s fingernails between approaching this intersection and leaving it. The best way to handle this kind of stress, I’ve discovered, is a candy bar, a bottle of water, and a good radio station. Or, one can play word games with the Rob-Bobs.

“I have a five letter word for the world’s largest cat,” I said smugly.

“Tiger,” Bob said without a second’s hesitation.

“That’s not it.”

“Well, it isn’t lion, because they’re smaller than tigers, and besides, you said five letters.”

“That’s correct. Do you give up?”

“No.”

“I do,” Rob said, “because you’re yanking our chains. This is a trick question and you know it.”

“This isn’t a trick question. Let’s make a bet. If neither of you can supply the right word by the time we get back on I-26, you will be at my mercy for the entire evening.”

“Kinky,” Rob said. “I love it already.”

Bob, the mild-mannered man from Toledo, blew a Bronx cheer at the car in front of us, which had applied the brakes for no apparent reason. “What happens if we guess the word in time?”

“Then I’ll be yours for the evening.”

“In how many ways?” Rob asked.

“As many as you want, darling.”

“Deal,” Rob said.

“Then you better guess,” Bob growled, “because we’re moving again.”

But neither of my buddies came up with liger, the correct answer. What’s more, they didn’t believe me—especially when I told them I’d gotten the word from C.J. To make matters worse, the word liger did not appear in the Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary Bob keeps under the passenger seat for just this sort of situation. However, he did find “tiglon.” When we got to the Den of Antiquity he looked up liger on the Internet, and then shook his head in disappointment.

“That C.J.,” he said, “she tells the truth just enough times to keep one off balance.”

“She probably believes most, if not everything, she tell us,” I said. “I don’t think she’s capable of lying.”

“Everyone’s capable of lying,” Rob said. He started to unbutton his shirt.

“Rob, what are you doing?”

“Aren’t you going to have your way with us?”

“Yes, but I want you fully clothed.”

“Like I said, you’re kinky.”

“Yes, kinky enough to treat the two of you to dinner tonight at Chez Fez.”

The men exchanged looks of genuine horror. “You’re not serious, Abby,” Rob said. “Are you?”

“As serious as the plague.”

“But the belly dancer hit on me.”

“And the chef uses canned cumin,” Bob moaned.

“A deal’s a deal. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“But what will I do with my llama lasagna?”

“Send it to some hungry llamas.”

They tried to bribe me. Bob was willing to freeze the lasagna and treat me to dinner at a restaurant of my choice—anything but Chez Fez. Rob said he would give me unlimited back rubs for a month. When I refused their offers, they pouted like little boys.

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